


crescendo

by magebird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Bruises, Choking, Cunnilingus, M/M, Oral Sex, Painplay, Prosthesis, Restraints, Size Kink, Spanking, Trans Character, Trans Junkrat, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:50:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magebird/pseuds/magebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roadhog and Junkrat have started working for Overwatch, and Junkrat is having a little trouble settling in. When Junkrat meets Lúcio, things start to get even more complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be nothing but smut and then it wasn't and I'm not even sorry.
> 
> I am a cis female author and I try my best to present trans characters written respectfully and accurately. I absolutely invite you to contact me if you have any issues with how Jamie is portrayed.

The humid summer heat of Gibraltar was nothing like the oven-hot haze of the desert, and Junkrat had decided he despised it after the first night sweating through his sheets. There was a climate control system in place, but the mechanical buzz and constant, unchanging brush of air from the vents left him jumpy and tense. It’s blank predictability was too clean after a life of dust and scorching winds, and so he flung open all the windows in his tiny room and shoved his bed up against the biggest one, getting as close to sleeping outside as he could without actually being there. Having the windows open at least got the vents to shut off automatically, though bugs and heat like a wet blanket came in their place.

Roadhog had adjusted much better, settling in to the next room over with barely a peep of complaint. Junkrat figured it was probably because he remembered living indoors where all the angles were sharp and perfect and the floors smooth. For him, it was a return to what felt normal rather than a complete paradigm shift. His ease made Junkrat a little jealous, though there wasn’t really anything to be done about that. The more Roadhog tried to get Jamie to calm down and settle in, the more prickly he got.

They’d been assigned to a small wing down a half-flight of steps from the main corridor connecting everyone’s quarters with a few other rooms to either side, but they were currently the only occupants. Junkrat liked it that way. He was used to sharing space with Roadhog, but having to adjust to a pack of idealistic strangers trying to share the bathroom sounded like a hell worse than the wasteland. He avoided the rest of the people on the base as much as he could, taking his meals back to his room to eat alone (the stares when he attacked his plate made his skin crawl) and keeping to himself whenever Roadhog wasn’t around to play escort. Again, Roadhog seemed to have a much better time of things. He wasn’t exactly chummy with everyone, but he didn’t seem to feel like their eyes were drilling into his skin every time he left his room.

On some level, Junkrat knew it was safe. He didn’t need to take every glance as a threat like he did in Junkertown. If a fight broke out, someone stepped in to stop it immediately and no one died. It wasn’t right. How the fuck were they supposed to handle things if they weren’t allowed to, well, handle things?

At least the privacy of their quarters meant that sex hadn’t had to change much. Junkrat spent almost every evening he could in Roadhog’s room with powerful hands on his hips, his thighs, his throat. Junkrat found himself craving it with a greater intensity than he’d ever felt on the road. Maybe it was that he wasn’t falling into bed exhausted every night and needed something to do with all his pent-up energy, or maybe it was just that when Roadhog was buried inside him and biting his neck, he couldn’t think of anything else and the anxiety faded away for a little while.

It had never been secret, what he and Roadhog did, but the marks suddenly seemed so much brighter with people glancing at them, some frowning. It wasn’t like none of them were getting any, Junkrat thought as he threw a handful of chips onto his plate in the dining hall savagely. They were just looking for something to judge him by, and everything from the hickies on his neck to the scars on his chest felt like a big, glowing target.

Flashing a vicious smile at the few faces turned his way, Junkrat turned with his tray in his hands to head towards the door again. His path was blocked almost instantly by a woman almost a foot shorter than him who he recognized vaguely from the orientation tour he and Hog had been given when they first arrived.

“Fawkes, you missed your appointment this morning,” she said without any sort of introduction. Junkrat’s mouth twitched down into a frown.

“What?”

“You were scheduled for a physical at 0900 this morning,” the woman said. Her eyes were blue and her blond hair was pulled back into a clip at the nape of her neck. “It was in the packet we gave you at orientation.”

Junkrat recalled vaguely dumping a pile of papers into the wastebasket next to his desk. “Right.”

“So, I have rescheduled you for this afternoon in forty minutes. I will have to take another patient at the same time, but it is vital that you--”

“Listen,” Junkrat interrupted, shuffling a few inches sideways to try to duck around the woman. She was the doctor, it seemed, and that had never in Junkrat’s life been good news. “I don’t wanna be--”

“It is a stipulation of your contract,” the doctor lady said, her lips going tight at the corners and a little crease appearing between her perfect eyebrows. “Your… partner has already completed his. If you wish to continue your stay here, I suggest you get on board with the program, Mr. Fawkes.”

Already she was starting to turn away, consulting a tablet in her hand with the impression of someone who had about a thousand other things to do with her time. 

“Oi, just-- Don’t call me that!” Junkrat said, his words falling a little flat as the doctor’s quick step carried her off and towards another door. Grinding his teeth, Junkrat stomped off in his own direction, his fingers white-knuckled around the tray he was carrying.

* * *

The least he could do to get back at the system was be late and Junkrat showed up a solid half hour after the doctor had told him to arrive, trudging along with a sullen look on his face. Roadhog had been napping and uninterested in being roused, so he hadn’t even gotten to complain to anyone before he arrived.

The doctor from before was standing just inside the medical bay, leaning over a desk, and she lifted her head when he came inside. Her frown betrayed her annoyance, but her tone was professional as she said, “I’m glad you could make it. Please head to the first exam table over there and have a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.”

Junkrat shoved his hands in his pockets as she gestured with her pen towards the first table in a row of three against one wall. The second one had the curtains pulled around it and the third was empty, though the paper covering it was crumbled from a recent occupant.

The doctor tugged Junkrat’s curtain closed around him as she passed by heading to the next bay down, but didn’t make eye contact. Junkrat breathed out a soft sigh, then moved to perch on the edge of the exam table, waiting.

Quiet voices were audible from the next bed over, then a low laugh that wasn’t the doctor’s. Junkrat glanced towards the curtain separating them, but could only get the vaguest impression of a shape sitting up on the table beyond. Then, the doctor’s voice rose a little as she said, “Go ahead and get dressed and put your prosthetics back on. That test result will be back soon.”

Metal curtain rings rattled as she opened up the curtain next to Junkrat’s table and let herself through, and he caught a glimpse of someone with dark skin in a paper gown beyond her before she tugged it closed again. 

The exam itself was mercifully short. The doctor, who finally reminded Junkrat that her name was Dr. Zeigler, took blood samples and swabbed Junkrat’s cheek, but it didn’t get much more invasive. The most annoying part was being called Jamison over and over. Once she’d set aside his samples to be taken to the lab, she returned with her tablet, glancing down at the screen as she scrolled with her thumb.

“We could offer you some treatment for those surgical scars,” Dr. Ziegler remarked, gesturing with her pen again towards Junkrat’s chest. He felt his stomach clench a little at the suggestion and glanced down at his own body. The scars under each pec were thick and pink against his tanned skin, evidence of the haphazard skill of the surgeon. They weren’t pretty, sure, but Junkrat had never really thought about them as something that needed treatment.

“No,” Junkrat said flatly, making Dr. Ziegler raise an eyebrow at him. He frowned right back. “I said no!”

“Suit yourself,” she said, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Oh-- Besides that, I just wanted to confirm that the bruising and, uh, abrasions on your neck and wrists are…”

Junkrat stared at her for a second, feeling his ears go hot. What was it about her clinical tone that made him suddenly so defensive?

“I’m fine,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “Nothin’ to worry about here.”

Dr. Ziegler tapped something on her screen. “Very well. I’m scheduling a follow-up in a week to go over test results. I’ll be conducting some further examinations at that time and our prosthetist will be available to go over anything you wish to discuss so… Until then, you’re all set.”

She paused, as if waiting for Junkrat to thank her, then turned away after an instant of silence. Glancing towards the second bed, she called out, “Lúcio, I’m heading downstairs with these specimens. I should be back with your results shortly.”

From beside Junkrat, a friendly voice replied, “Thanks, doc!”

Junkrat slid down off his exam table with a crinkle of paper and a little clang as his peg landed on the linoleum floor. He shoved his curtain open further as he moved forward, glancing to the right to see that the next bed over wasn’t hidden anymore.

The man sitting there was one he recognized vaguely, though he couldn’t quite remember where he’d seen his face. Probably just around the base. His dreadlocks were loose around his shoulders and he had a pair of in-ear headphone on. Junkrat’s stare made him glance up from the music player he was holding in one hand and crack a slight smile. He’d changed out of his paper gown into a worn-looking black tank-top and army green cargo shorts.

“Hey. Sorry for creeping on your session with the doc. I put some music on so I wouldn’t overhear much,” he said. There was a warmth to his voice that Junkrat hadn’t expected from someone who was more or less a complete stranger and he might have noticed the surprise on his face. “You’re, uh, Junkrat, right? Came in a few weeks ago with the big guy.” He cocked his head a little to the side. “You know who I am?”

“No,” Junkrat replied. He ought to just head out the door and back to his room, but he hadn’t had a conversation with anyone but Roadhog or the doctor in… Well. Awhile.

The guy on the exam table cracked a smile. “Lúcio Correia dos Santos. Lúcio.”

He seemed to expect something from Junkrat at that, but when Junkrat just kind of looked at him he laughed and stuck out a hand to shake. Junkrat took a step forward to grasp it, frowning ever so slightly.

“Relax. I’m just saying hi,” Lúcio told him, giving his hand a squeeze. He inclined his head slightly towards Junkrat’s shoulder. “Nice arm. I know Angie told you, but they’ve got some people here who do amazing stuff with prosthetics if you want any upgrades.”

For a second, Junkrat was ready to be offended. Didn’t these Overwatch goons know you weren’t supposed to point out a man’s weaknesses? But, his eyes flicked down and he saw that Lúcio’s legs transitioned to metal just below the knee. Oh.

“Thanks,” he said, unsure of what else he could offer in reply.

“No problem,” Lúcio said, giving him a nod. “Hey, if you see me at lunch you should say hi. I know you just pop in, but we don’t bite.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “Though, I think it looks like you like that.”

Junkrat’s ears went hot again, but this time it was from something very different than anger. For some reason, his first instinct wasn’t to tell the guy off for even looking at him.

Lifting his chin a little, Junkrat said, “Maybe I will.”

When Lúcio smiled, crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes and his whole face lit up. “Looking forward to it, Junkrat.”

Junkrat felt like he took forever fumbling his shirt back on and getting his boot laced, but when he glanced back at Lúcio his eyes were closed and he was reclining back against the raised exam table. His head nodded slightly in time with the faint music Junkrat could hear coming from his headphones. As Junkrat moved towards the door, Lúcio cracked an eye open and lifted a hand to wave farewell, smiling, and Junkrat felt his lips turn up into a smile in return.

* * *

Junkrat found his way to Lúcio’s table the next day, a little nervous but mostly determined. Lúcio was sitting with a few others who introduced themselves, and Junkrat mostly kept his mouth shut except to shovel in food.

Having regular meals had been one boon of living on this base, and Junkrat had eaten himself sick the first few nights until his body and instincts had gotten the message that no one was about to rip his meals out of his hands anymore. Some of the gauntness in his cheeks had started to fill out, as much from having enough water as food. Others around Junkrat sometimes complained about the quality of the food, but even grey peas from a can tasted fresher than almost anything Junkrat was used to, so he didn’t whine.

Lúcio made space on the bench next to him and Junkrat slid in, feeling a little sharp on the edges at having to put his back to so many people. Maybe he could suggest a table against the wall next time. The rest of the group at the table made pleasant small talk without paying Junkrat too much attention, and he quizzed himself silently on their names as he listened in. They seemed to be from all over the world, some with visible enhancements that made them useful and others unfathomable for now. They all seemed so kind and soft compared to the people Junkrat was used to, so full of hope for this mission they’d been drafted in to.

Three of the group had to get up and leave as the clock ticked to 1:30 in the afternoon, saying their goodbyes and heading off to what Junkrat had gathered was a routine recon mission. He was left with Lúcio at his side and a petite Korean girl across the table who had introduced herself as Hana Song. She had a massive plate of pasta with red sauce in front of her and was scrolling her phone with one hand as she ate, mostly tuned out of the conversation.

“So,” Lúcio said, turning towards Junkrat as the others headed off towards the exit. “How are you settling in? Been on any missions yet?”

Junkrat reached out to grab his roll off his plate, ripping it in half to give his hands something to do. His metal hand was a little too firm for the soft bread and he squished it more than he meant to. “No jobs yet. They said something about gettin’ me’n’Roadie on an escort for some folks, but I dunno.”

“That’s the big guy, huh? Roadie?” Lúcio asked.

Junkrat nodded, shoving his un-squished half of his roll into his mouth and then talking as if it wasn’t stuffed. “Roadhog. He’s me bodyguard. Sorta. Things are different now, but he’s mine.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Lúcio asked, and Junkrat choked a little on his roll, cheeks going red under his tan.

“What? No, he’s--” Junkrat started, and Lúcio was laughing, damn him. “I mean he’s-- he’s not available if that’s what yer askin’!”

“No!” Lúcio laughed, shaking his head and putting a hand on Junkrat’s arm. “Take a breath. That’s not why I’m asking.”

“Good, cause he’s--”

“No, I was kind of wondering if you were. But if you two are a thing, I get it,” Lúcio went on, smooth as music. Junkrat went silent, staring at him.

“Fuck off,” Junkrat said after several noisy heartbeats. He noticed Hana glance up from her phone for the first time and shot a scowl her way too. Lúcio drew his hand back.

“Hey, I don’t mean any offense.”

“I-- no, just. Don’t fuck with me,” Junkrat said, already scooting towards the end of the bench to stand up, his hands grabbing the edges of his tray. “Thought you were fuckin’ nice.”

“I’m not-- hey! Hey,” Lúcio stood before Junkrat could move away, putting a hand on his elbow again. Junkrat frowned, but paused. “I’m just flirting. I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” He paused for a second, then added, “I’m being sincere.”

Junkrat frowned at him, studying his face. He was short, compared to Junkrat, and hard as he looked Junkrat couldn’t see anything deceptive in his brown eyes. Junkrat had learned to be fairly good at picking out people who meant him harm and Lúcio just… Didn’t give him that vibe. It didn’t help that the man was painfully pretty, with a soft mouth and neatly groomed goatee. He wanted to believe him.

He set his tray back down, then sank into his seat again. “I gotta ask.”

“What?” Lúcio said, though the worry was gone from his tone as he took his seat again beside Junkrat.

“I gotta ask, you drongo. If I’m… available.” Junkrat didn’t look at him, instead spearing a piece of mushy broccoli with his fork.

Lúcio’s smirk made Junkrat’s face feel warm again. “Cool.”

Hana spared them any awkwardness at that moment by leaning forward to shove her phone under Lúcio’s nose, showing him some photo or another, but Junkrat kept his eyes on his plate. It was as much to hide his stupid smile as anything else.

* * *

Roadhog was out doing something when Junkrat made his way back to their quarters and he hung around in Roadhog’s room waiting for what felt like ages. It was enough time to find out that Lúcio was, apparently, kind of well known, and that was an odd discovery. Junkrat wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take the news or if he ought to be annoyed that Lúcio hadn’t mentioned it himself.

He was halfway through an article about Lúcio sparking some kind of revolution when the door opened and Roadhog shuffled inside. He wasn’t wearing his mask, which was a little weird, but since the Overwatch medics had done something to fix his eyesight he no longer needed the lenses and seemed much more willing to go without it when he was just around the base.

“Hey,” he said in greeting as Junkrat scrambled from his lounging position to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Where’ve you been?” Junkrat asked, his voice sounding a little petulant even to his own ears. It was odd to be able to see Roadhog’s fond little smile flicker across his face.

“Talking to a weapons expert,” Roadhog said. He swung his scrap gun up to clatter down on the top of the dresser, scattering a few spare bolts that had still be in the chamber. “Increasing efficiency. All that shit they like here.”

Junkrat huffed softly, getting to his feet. “Wanted to talk to you.”

“‘Bout what?” Roadhog closed the distance between them, reaching out to cup the back of Junkrat’s neck gently. It was a familiar gesture, one they often shared when the mask or being exposed made further affection unwise.

Bringing his hands up to rest on Roadhog’s thick arm, Junkrat hesitated. It had just been the two of them for so, so long. Even now, in a setting where Roadhog didn’t have any use for Junkrat, he’d always been careful to take enough time to give him the attention he craved. Was asking about Lúcio’s flirtations a betrayal of that? They’d never established they were an exclusive thing, but… There had never really been options before.

All Junkrat knew for sure is that he didn’t want Roadhog to draw away or get angry or, worse still, be hurt by the mere question. Roadhog wasn’t exactly delicate, but he was possessive and it was possible that even considering someone else’s advances would hurt him.

“Nothin’ important,” Junkrat said, nuzzling in to rub his cheek against Roadhog’s wrist. “Missed you. Been horny as fuck all afternoon and didn’t have anyone to help me out.”

Roadhog seemed to relax a fraction and he laughed, a low huff that barely made any sound but caused his belly to jiggle slightly. As if speaking it brought it into being, Junkrat felt a rush of warmth between his thighs, already anticipating how nice it would feel to have Roadhog all over him. 

“You’ve got hands,” Roadhog said with a chuckle, sliding his hands down to Junkrat’s ass and giving a squeeze. Junkrat came up on his toes, rocking forward, and used it as an excuse to press a kiss to Roadhog’s chin.

“Yours are so much bigger, though, mate,” Junkrat huffed, lifting his peg leg to hook it around Roadhog’s hip. “Feel a lot better.”

With barely any effort, Roadhog lifted him up off the ground, carrying him over to the bed and dropping him there so he tumbled onto his back in a sprawl. His legs were splayed wide, and Roadhog grabbed the heel of his boot to drag it off him, tossing it off towards the door. Junkrat aimed a playful kick at him, but Roadhog caught him by the ankle and folded his leg back up towards his chest so his knee was pressed in towards his shoulder and his legs were spread even wider apart.

Roadhog brought his other hand down to press right between Junkrat’s legs, giving him something to grind against for a moment. The heel of his hand was warm, but Junkrat knew his center felt hotter and that it wouldn’t take long for the wet of his arousal to start being noticeable.

“Gonna ruin my fuckin’ shorts,” he griped, rocking his hips as best he could with his leg pinned as it was.

“They’re already shredded,” Roadhog replied, but he hooked his fingers in the waistband and started to pull, releasing Junkrat’s leg so he could get them off. He got his underwear in the same rough motion, tugging and dragging Junkrat a few inches across the bed before they slid over his hips and Roadhog could pull them off. Bare from the waist down, Junkrat let his legs splay wide, his hands falling to rest on each inner thigh like a frame for what lay between. Then, he reached up to drag his shirt off in a few frantic motions to leave himself completely nude.

Roadhog looked pleased and dropped down to his knees at once, grabbing Junkrat around the thighs and yanking him to the edge of the bed. He breathed in the scent of him, something that always made Junkrat feel filthy and desireable, then licked along his slit once, tongue flicking across his clit at the end of the motion. Junkrat’s hips jerked, the sharp sensation bright and sudden, and he squirmed forward to press himself more fully against Roadhog’s mouth. His fingers brushed across Roadhog’s hair where it was pulled up and back, unable to find purchase without ruining the pigtail.

There was nothing delicate about the way Roadhog ate him out. His mouth was noisy and messy, spreading slick across Junkrat’s lower lips and inner thighs with abandon. Junkrat was always one to get terribly wet at even the slightest provocation, and Roadhog seemed to love licking it up, tasting him and getting the whole lower half of his face coated as he worked his tongue and lips over every sensitive spot he could reach. There was little finesse to the process, but it was the best Junkrat had ever had and the intensity alone was enough to get him squirming and bucking as Roadhog latched on to his clit and worked his lips around it. Junkrat’s instinct was to try and pull away, the spot wildly sensitive and the sensation overwhelming, but Roadhog’s arms were impossible to break free from.

Instead he whined, reaching to grab the covers on either side of himself and grind his cunt against Roadhog’s face as forcefully as he could without any real leverage. It had been early on that Roadhog discovered how easily he could bring Junkrat to the edge with his mouth, and while those first few months had been filled with countless easy orgasms, Roadhog had quickly found that ordering Junkrat to hold back and not reach his peak was an even better way to get him mewling and whimpering. Pressure was coiling like a spring in Junkrat’s stomach and he forced himself to keep breathing through it, trying to release it without letting it build towards the orgasm he’d have to fight back.

With a wet sound, Roadhog lifted his mouth from Junkrat’s pussy and turned to bite down hard on his inner thigh. Junkrat wailed, bringing his hands up to cover his face and going stiff. The pain coursed through him, hot and just as wanted as the pleasure, and when Roadhog finally released him he crashed down to the bed, panting and squirming as the spot throbbed. It would be a new bruise and he couldn’t wait.

“Roadie, fuck, fuck, put it in me, put your cock in me--” Junkrat babbled, finding his voice again and immediately jumping towards begging. His pride had been fucked out of him long ago, and now he just asked for what he wanted without any further shame. He felt Roadhog shudder with a soft laugh and whined, splaying his legs as wide as he could to present himself.

He was wet and ready enough that a finger sliding into him just felt like heaven, despite how damn thick it was. Automatically he reached down to feel for Roadhog’s wrist, trying to push him deeper, but a sharp slap against his thigh made him jerk his hands back.

“You need to be tied up?” Roadhog asked, crooking his finger a little to hit the spot that made Junkrat gush a little more fluid across his knuckles. For a second, Junkrat couldn’t respond, panting helplessly and gaping at him, then he nodded furiously, his whole body trembling.

Roadhog’s finger slid out of him, trailing wet for a moment and making Junkrat feel absolutely filthy. He wriggled a little in place so he could watch Roadhog crouch back and grab a canvas bag from under the bed, tossing it down by Junkrat’s hip. He paused, looking down at Junkrat with a mixture of hunger and affection, then dug around in the bag until he produced a pair of velcro cuffs connected by a short chain.

Junkrat didn’t raise his hands for the cuffs immediately, biting his lip and waiting. Roadhog lifted an eyebrow at him, then reached down to grab him by the thigh and jerk him to the side on the bed, turning him so he was laying long-ways instead of sprawled across it. His one hand was big enough to easily control Junkrat’s hole body by a grip on his thigh, and he dug in his fingers until Junkrat yelped in pain, squirming and thrusting his hips up. 

“Hands,” he growled, soft and low, and Junkrat felt his cunt clench with pleasure at the sound. 

“Make me,” he mumbled, anticipation thrumming in his chest. Roadhog barely let the words leave his mouth before he grabbed Junkrat by the throat, squeezing hard. Junkrat’s hands flew to Roadhog’s hand, scrabbling helplessly, and he felt everything blur pleasantly around the edges before the grip loosened and he was allowed to draw a deep, shuddering breath again.

“Hands. Now.”

This time, Junkrat let his hands fall to frame his face, unresisting as Roadhog caught one wrist, then the other in the cuffs. He clipped the chain to a carabiner they’d roped to the headboard for just such circumstances, then dragged his hands down along Junkrat’s forearms and biceps, ending up on his chest. The surgery had left Junkrat without much surface feeling there, but the weight, pressure, and heat of Roadhog’s hands was still tangible, and he pressed up into it, breathing hard.

Roadhog freed a hand to slide between Junkrat’s legs again, spreading him open with two fingers so he could slip his middle finger inside again. He held his hand still, letting Junkrat rock against it for a moment or two, then pulled back.

“You’ve been bad,” he murmured, and Junkrat felt his stomach fill with butterflies at the promise in the words. “I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Roadie,” he whined, jerking a little against his cuffs. In a pinch, they’d be easy enough to open with his teeth, but when he really wanted to struggle they had less escapable restraints in the bag. “Sir, please-- I’ll be good.”

Roadhog didn’t reply, stripping off his shirt slowly and giving Junkrat a view of his broad chest and round stomach. The curved barbells in his nipples caught the late afternoon light sneaking through the closed blinds, his tattoo stretching a little with each inhalation. His pants went next, tossed into the pile with the rest of their clothes, and Junkrat lifted his head to see what he expected-- Roadhog was mostly hard and ready, hanging thick under the curve of his belly. There was a matching piercing in the head of his cock, nestled into his slit, and he thumbed across it as he stepped close again.

“You had your chance to be a good boy,” Roadhog growled, reaching down to spread Junkrat’s legs a little wider and expose his puffy, wet lips.

“Sir,” Junkrat whined, scooting down as much as he could to press into Roadhog’s touch. His arms were stretched above his head, leaving him exposed. “Please.”

“You should be begging for a punishment, boy,” Roadhog said, thumbing across the mark he’d made earlier and making Junkrat squirm. “So what’s it going to be? How should I punish a disobedient little slut?”

Roadhog drew his hand back, and Junkrat rolled onto his stomach, getting his knees under him and keeping his chest pressed to the bed. The position presented his ass, and when he spoke his voice was muffled from his cheek pressed into the comforter. “Fuckin’ spank me, sir. Use your hand. Please.”

A soft chuckle met his plea, and Roadhog ran his finger up between Junkrat’s legs, teasing around his wet hole and smearing some of the slick up towards his ass. “And?”

Junkrat squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never liked anal particularly, but Roadhog used his distaste for it as a motivator. 

“Please put, ah, the plug-- Put the plug in me, sir.”

“Good boy,” Roadhog said, and Junkrat melted a little at the praise. His hand disappeared, and Junkrat heard him opening a drawer, then flicking open the cap of a bottle of lube. When they’d been out in the wasteland, it had been up to Junkrat’s body to provide enough lube to slick anything going into him, but now that they had all the supplies they wanted, it was far easier to use the artificial stuff.

The plug itself was small and metal, heavier than it looked and sporting a ring at the base so it could be easier removed. There had been a few times when Roadhog had made him wear it for awhile, and though it was relatively comfortable, he’d hated it so much that Roadhog eventually retired it to only situations like this one where he was already being punished. 

Roadhog’s finger prodded at Junkrat’s hole, thick and wet with lube, and Junkrat pressed back, wanting to get it in as quickly as possible so he could move on to the part of the punishment that he was really craving. This was for Roadhog’s enjoyment, and that was worthwhile enough.

When the metal started to push in, Junkrat was still tight enough that it stung a little, but he arched his back and whimpered, letting himself fall deeper into a headspace where everything was pleasure and all the intensity channeled right towards those good feelings in his chest. It was seated inside him within a few moments, making him pant and press his forehead against the bed. Every clench made it feel more obvious, and it pressed inside him in a way that made his pelvis feel heavy and swollen from the inside out. Really, it was less the discomfort that made it unpleasant than the uncontrollable intensity of its weight inside him. Roadhog had fucked him with it in exactly once and Junkrat had nearly passed out when he finally came.

“Thank you, sir,” Junkrat mumbled without prompting, and Roadhog gave his clit a light rub as a reward. Then, his hand came down hard on Junkrat’s outer thigh, making him yip and jerk forward, clenching hard around the plug in his ass. Another swat landed properly on one cheek, then the other, and Junkrat lifted himself a little higher to meet the next. He was trembling, whining, and Roadhog kept up a nice, steady rhythm. His hands were so big that each blow more or less engulfed half of Junkrat’s ass, and as he worked his way back and forth he moved a little lower, covering the backs of Junkrat’s thighs with a red blush to match his ass.

The heat of it was making Junkrat’s eyes prickle with tears, and he scrubbed his face against the bed, muffling a little wail against a pillow. A trickle of wet rolled down his inner thigh as Roadhog started to work his way back up, betraying the pounding arousal in him. If Roadhog kept up just like this, he knew he would be on the edge again soon, and then he’d have to fight off an orgasm as Roadhog kept up the punishment. Junkrat never knew exactly when he’d decide that he’d had enough, but usually it was when Junkrat was snotty and whimpering with every touch. Then, he’d finally fuck him or lick him or use his mouth and Junkrat would be allowed to get off.

The separation between each blow seemed to grow fuzzy, the intensity rising and falling, and Junkrat found himself moaning out a litany of “Sir” and “please” as he rocked back against Roadhog’s hand. Suddenly, he felt a warm hand come to rest between his shoulder blades and opened his stinging eyes.

“Good boy,” Roadhog said, and if Junkrat could have touched himself right then it would have taken only an instant to find the edge. “Such a good boy. I’m going to take the plug out now.”

Junkrat grunted in agreement, wincing a little against the pressure as Roadhog pulled, then set the thing aside with a soft clunk.

The thick head of Roadhog’s cock nudging at his hole made Junkrat shift his stance a little wider, angling his hips up so he could arch his back under Roadhog’s belly and still feel him as deep as humanly possible. It was perhaps Roadhog’s favorite position, though Junkrat preferred to ride him when he was given a choice. Still, not having any decisions to make was exactly right for the moment, and Junkrat just let out a breathy whine as Roadhog slowly slid his way in.

It had taken time for Junkrat to get used to taking a cock as big as Roadhog’s, but now it just felt perfect and full as he started to rock into Junkrat. He slipped a hand around Junkrat’s throat, and Junkrat just let himself relax against it, savoring the pressure every he swallowed. The soft, slick sounds of Roadhog’s movements were the only ones in the room besides the damned air conditioner whirring away, but even those slipped out of Junkrat’s attention as he focused in on just what he could feel.

Roadhog always got to come first. It was one of their unspoken little rules that made the whole thing sweeter and got Junkrat wetter. Sometimes he teased Junkrat for ages, making him hold himself on the edge the whole while Roadhog was taking his pleasure with him, but this time Roadhog seemed more eager for his own release than for further games. His hips moved faster, his grip on Junkrat’s throat tightening, and then he growled and slammed in completely. Junkrat was too blissed out to offer much of a response until Roadhog slipped out of him a few moments later, making him shudder, and then a thick finger pressed in where his cock had been.

Roadhog was silent as he thrust into Junkrat with his finger, his thumb angling down to rub against his clit insistently. It almost hurt, but rode that perfect line where the intensity just built and built until Junkrat was whimpering and bucking, unsure if he needed more or if he wanted to get away. All at once, it snapped in him, and he cried out in pleasure, throwing his head back as he clenched rhythmically around Roadhog’s hand.

When he collapsed forward again, Roadhog drew his hand out gently, murmuring nonsense as he reached up to unclip Junkrat’s hands from the headboard.

“Shoulda… Shoulda asked for permission,” Junkrat mumbled, curling in on himself a little as soon as his hands were free. Roadhog stroked his hair and down the back of his neck, soothing. “Sorry.”

“You did good,” Roadhog assured him softly. “Don’t apologize.”

Junkrat made a soft noise in the back of his throat, then curled in towards Roadhog’s leg, craving touch. Roadhog let him settle in close, then yanked the covers up to bundle him in.

Already, Junkrat felt drowsy. He knew he should talk to Roadhog about what had really been on his mind sooner rather than later, but the glow was too nice to ruin with reality quite yet. Besides, they had time. It wasn’t like either of them planned on going anywhere.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roadhog and Junkrat talk, and it sort of goes well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a lot sweeter than the last one and has boombox instead of roadrat. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also, I headcanon Jamie as having bpd because I do, too, so. Yay for projecting. :')

Junkrat waited outside of Roadhog’s room the next morning for the other man to emerge so they could head to breakfast. He’d dragged himself back to his own bed around midnight, too bothered by the sound of the vents to sleep well, but had been preoccupied after that wondering if it would be right to bring up his discussion with Lúcio. In the end, sleep had been fitful until morning and he decided that instead of lazing in bed til noon he would actually go with Roadhog and secure a proper breakfast.

Roadhog looked a little surprised when he saw Junkrat waiting there, but was willing enough to have him come along to the dining hall. Maybe a dozen other people were up that early, but not much chatter and Roadhog and Junkrat found a seat near the wall that provided a good vantage of the rest of the room before settling down to eat. The offerings were simple-- fruit, bread, and oatmeal for the most part, plus a few staples like rice and pickled vegetables for those that preferred them. The base didn’t have a full-time kitchen staff, so keeping everyone fed was a task that they all took turns helping out with. Jamie wondered if he’d missed rotations on the schedule, then shrugged it off. If they really needed him, they knew where he slept.

“Roadie,” Junkrat said, watching Roadhog scoop a pat of butter out of its little plastic container and onto his oatmeal. Roadhog glanced up, brows knitting slightly. Junkrat wasn’t surprised-- even when getting up and going in the morning had been required, he’d always been quiet. “I wanna ask you somethin’.”

“What is it?” Roadhog said, stirring his oatmeal to mix in the butter and brown sugar. When Junkrat was quiet a moment too long, he asked, “You leavin’?”

“What? No!” Junkrat said, looking aghast. “I’m not goin’ anywhere without your sorry ass.”

It was still so strange to be able to see Roadhog’s face clearly, but there was something satisfying about the look of relief that crossed his features.

“Idiot,” Junkrat said, making Roadhog shrug. “Listen, I… This… thing we do, uh…” He made a vague gesture with his hand, cheeks flushing. Maybe he should have chosen to wait until they were back in the room and it was guaranteed no one would overhear. “The, uh. Fuckin’.”

“What about it?” Roadhog asked. Suddenly it was like he’d put the mask back on, even though his face was bare. Junkrat could read nothing. 

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m just. I just wanna know somethin’ about it.” Junkrat looked down at the banana on his plate next to a sorry looking bran muffin wrapped in plastic. The silence between them seemed to hammer in his ears. “D’you want me to, y’know. Not… not do anyone else?”

Roadhog didn’t respond for several seconds, and Junkrat finally looked up to see him staring with a frown. When their eyes met, Roadhog asked, “Is there someone else?”

“No!” Junkrat said, then, “Well, yes, sort of-- I… This guy asked.”

“You never talk to anyone,” Roadhog pointed out, and if Junkrat didn’t know him so well he wouldn’t have been able to notice the tiny hint of hurt and confusion in his voice. It was barely there, but it was enough to make him flinch.

“No-- Roadie, yeah, I just-- He wanted to know and I said I gotta ask you and it’s nothin’, okay? If you don’t want me to talk to him like that I’ll tell him to fuck off, okay?” Junkrat lifted himself up a little in his chair, reaching across to touch Roadhog’s hand. The other man glanced down to where their hands met, then sighed through his nose.

“No. If you want to do something with him, you can,” Roadhog said, though he sounded more resigned than anything else. “Gotta tell me if you’re gonna be gone though.”

It was oddly gratifying to know that Roadhog didn’t want him going off on his own, but Junkrat couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong anyway. He sank back down in his seat, letting his hand slip away from Roadhog’s.

“Almost thought you’d be happy to have me outta your hair sometimes,” he said weakly. Roadhog gave him a sharp glance and his forced smile withered. “This don’t mean anything about us.”

“Who is it?” Roadhog asked.

Without considering whether it was a good choice, Junkrat said, “His name’s Lúcio an’--”

“Lúcio?” Roadhog repeated. “Right. Look at him and then look at me and tell me this isn’t anything about us.” He stood, shoving his bowl of oatmeal away across the table hard enough that a little slopped over the edge and only the formica. “I’m going to the target range.”

“Roadie--” Junkrat said, scrambling up. A few heads turned their way, and he dropped his voice as his hand darted out to grab Roadhog by the wrist. It made the other man halt. “Mako, come on.”

“Listen, I just-- I just need a fucking minute to myself,” Roadhog said, refusing to meet Junkrat’s pleading gaze. “I’ll be back later. We can talk then.”

Junkrat let his hand fall, worrying his lip with his sharp teeth as Roadhog trudged off. This wasn’t how things were supposed to play out. Roadhog had never seemed like he was anything but absolutely certain of his place in Junkrat’s life. Even before things had grown into what they were it had always been “you wouldn’t survive without me” and “you need me”. 

Even the small rejection of Roadhog going off to think things through shot ice through Junkrat’s chest. He found his way back to their quarters, then headed into Roadhog’s room despite the sterile chill of the climate control. He brought the muffin with him, but by the time he set it down on Roadhog’s side table he’d jabbed a deep indent with his thumb in the top and didn’t want it anymore.

Junkrat curled up in the rumpled blankets shoved to one side of Roadhog’s bed, comforting himself by twisting the edge of one in his hands, bringing it to his face to breathe in their mingled scents. Roadhog would be back, soon, and then he could explain. He told himself that over and over, even as the anxiety twisted more and more sharply in his throat, until he was straining for the sound of someone coming down the hall with a heavy tread.

It was foolish to have expected Roadhog to take it well, Junkrat berated himself. He scrubbed at his snotty nose with the back of his hand. Who was he to think he deserved a second set of hands on him? He barely deserved Roadhog to begin with. Throwing that away and diving for the first sweet face to glance his way was selfish, ungrateful, cruel--

His thoughts were loud enough that the sound of the door made him start and turn to see Roadhog in the frame. He was wearing his mask again along with his gloves, though his chest harness was draped over one arm and he was holding his hook at his side. How long had Junkrat been wallowing? His nose was raw when he rubbed at it.

“Why are you crying?” Roadhog asked, stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him.

“I’m not!” Junkrat snapped, voice thick. Roadhog set his hook down on the dresser next to his scrap gun, the chain clattering as he wound it back up and then set the spool down too. He dropped his harness to the floor, then turned back towards the bed where Junkrat was. He knew he must look absolutely pathetic, pink-cheeked and wet-eyed. “Are you mad at me?”

Roadhog sighed, the sound distorted through his mask. “No.”

“You should be!” Junkrat snapped, his shoulders hunching forward. He glared down at his hands clenched in the comforter. “I shouldn’t’a asked.”

“How the fuck were you supposed to know what I’d say if you didn’t ask?” Roadhog said, and though there was definitely annoyance in his voice, his hand was very gentle as he touched Junkrat’s shoulder. “It was a surprise. You weren’t wrong.”

Junkrat slumped a little. His lip tasted raw where he’d been chewing on it, and he couldn’t find any words that could fit past the tightness in his throat.

“Junkrat,” Roadhog said, putting his hand on Junkrat’s cheek to make him look up. “I want rules, but we can make this work.”

Junkrat stared at him. It was almost better to have the mask between them, a buffer for how exposed the moment would have felt otherwise. He would have bet Roadhog felt the same way.

“You don’t gotta say yes just cause I’m a fuckin’ mess about it,” Junkrat mumbled, but he brought his hands up to hold Roadhog’s against his face, needing desperately to feel him there.

“That isn’t why,” Roadhog said as Junkrat nuzzled in to hide his face in his palm. “Do you still want to be with me?”

“Yes! Why are you even askin’ me that, you dumb lug?” Junkrat huffed sharply. “Idiot.”

“Then we’ll figure it out.” Roadhog shifted his hand around to the back of Junkrat’s neck, his touch warm and leather-scented. Junkrat nodded, letting his eyes fall shut.

* * *

They laid a few ground rules before Roadhog gave his permission for Junkrat to go back to Lúcio with the news. He wouldn’t stay over in someone else’s room-- his own or Roadhog’s were where he’d sleep. Junkrat wasn’t sure why that was so important to Roadhog, but it seemed easy enough to promise. It was simple, too, to promise Roadhog not to tell him the details unless he specifically asked and keep it more or less out of his sight. It wasn’t as though Lúcio and Roadhog ran in the same circles, anyway, so Junkrat didn’t think it would be hard for him to keep things neat and separate. On that same note, Roadhog asked that Junkrat avoid coming back with marks from someone else. Junkrat hadn’t even considered the possibility that Lúcio would be interested in leaving them, but he made the promise anyway because Roadhog seemed so determined. Sacrificing a few potential good things was better than the risk of hurting him again.

Junkrat took care to mention that if there was anyone Roadhog wanted to pursue, he’d be fine with letting things go both ways, but that made Roadhog huff out a laugh and tell him that one Rat was more than enough to look after. Still, the door was open, though the thought of Roadhog taking him up on it made Junkrat a little more uneasy than he liked to admit.

Anything else that came up they agreed they would discuss when the time came.

Junkrat didn’t spot Lúcio at dinner that night, though he’d deliberately gone at a separate time from Roadhog so he could have a conversation without inflicting it on him. The dining hall was serving individual pot pies, though, which was worth the effort, and Junkrat grabbed four before heading back to his room to devour them.

He had Lúcio’s number and sent a message asking if they could meet up sometime soon. It only took a few minutes for a response to come back suggesting a time (that evening) and a place (the cliff behind the west sentry building.) Junkrat agreed happily, and only realized maybe ten minutes before they were due to meet up that he perhaps should have put on something marginally nicer than the greying t-shirt and torn denim he was wearing.

It was too late to make changes by then, and he headed out with his lopsided gait.

Lúcio was already waiting for him by the time he got there, lounging on the ground with his legs stuck out in front of him. There were lights on his prosthetic limbs, dim enough that they wouldn’t be obvious in day but giving off a green glow in the dusky light. Lúcio looked like he was glowing himself, the brown of his skin tinted gold by the setting sun off over the ocean. Junkrat glanced down at his own hand and decided he just looked kind of orange.

“Hey, what’s happening?” Lúcio said in greeting as Junkrat approached. He got up to his feet, clasping Junkrat’s hand and tugging him into a brief embrace. He smelled a little sweet, and after a second Junkrat realized it must be cologne. Lúcio was the kind of man who wore cologne. “Glad you could make it.”

Junkrat mastered his smile, nodding. “Yeah. It’s nice, right? The sunset, I mean.”

“Yeah!” Lúcio’s face lit up as he turned back towards the edge of the cliff. “Lena showed me this place when I first got here and it’s magical, y’know? My favorite spot.” His grin brought those crinkles to the edges of his eyes. “I try to show everybody, but no one else comes here as often as I do. It’s a real shame.”

Junkrat nodded, looking out towards the sun with a squint. It was nowhere near as harsh as the light he was used to, and he blinked away spots as he turned back to see that Lúcio had turned that smile towards him. It made Junkrat want to flee, but he locked his knees and forced himself to stay still.

“Roadhog said, uh. That I could, uh, let you hit on me,” Junkrat said, the words coming out quick and slurred. “So you can do that. If you want.”

Amusement was so obvious on Lúcio’s face, like he’d never had to learn to hide it, but even so plain there was no malice to it. “Oh yeah? That’s good news.” He took a step closer, the light his legs cast shifting over the sparse grass. Junkrat couldn’t help but note again how short he was, but his presence was almost a physical pressure, like the heat coming off baked earth except only warm, not scorching. “So do I get to do more than just flirt?”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said, then cleared his throat, trying to ignore his heart pounding in his ears. “Yeah. I mean, I can do… Most stuff.”

“Really?” Lúcio asked, lifting an eyebrow. How could his face go wicked like that when nothing had obviously changed? “Then you should kiss me.”

Junkrat froze for a second too long and Lúcio pulled back suddenly, looking concerned.

“Oh-- sorry, is that out of the question? I--” Before he could finish the thought, Junkrat grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him back in, kissing him awkwardly enough that their teeth clacked together painfully and Lúcio let out a little grunt.

“Fuck-- sorry, mate, I’m--” Junkrat released him, rocking back onto his good foot and away. Lúcio was rubbing at his mouth with his hand, and for a second Junkrat was sure he’d be angry, but he chuckled as he glanced back up.

“I appreciate the eagerness, man, but you gotta take it slow and easy. Nice and gentle this time, got it?” Lúcio extended a hand towards him, palm up. “You don’t need to rush it.”

Junkrat was hesitant, then let himself take Lúcio’s hand and lean back in. This time, he brought their mouths together without a crash, and he felt Lúcio’s lips turn up against his for a second before he returned the kiss. Lúcio had smelled nice during the hug, but this was like being completely engulfed in the scent. It was sweet and spicy, though Junkrat didn’t know enough about smells to identify more than that he liked it. Lúcio’s mouth was soft-- no chapped lips like Roadhog-- and he kept drawing Junkrat forward instead of driving back into his mouth.

When they parted, Lúcio stayed close, bringing a hand up to touch Junkrat’s jaw lightly. There were callouses on his fingertips, and impulsively Junkrat turned to kiss them, drawing a bright laugh out of him.

“You’re so cute,” Lúcio said, tracing over Junkrat’s mouth. There was something about the gesture that reminded Junkrat of when Roadhog would pin him, but it was so gentle, so different, that he couldn’t quite place what the connection could be. “So, don’t leave me hangin’! Am I allowed to take you to bed?”

Junkrat stared at him for a second, his cheeks flushing. Lúcio laughed and squeezed his hand gently.

“Don’t worry-- there’s no rush. I just want to know if I can head that way, or…?”

“Yeah-- no, uh, yeah I’m allowed.” Junkrat shifted from foot to peg and back again, swallowing hard. “Whatever you want.”

Lúcio grinned, coming up on tiptoe to press another quick kiss to Junkrat’s mouth. “I’m glad. I want to do really filthy things to you and it would kind of suck if I just had to pine.”

Junkrat was struck dumb, staring at Lúcio like he’d been smacked in the back of the skull. The idea that Lúcio might actually want him like that had certainly been background noise in his mind, but the exact implications had escaped him until this moment.

“Uh,” he said. Almost as soon as comprehension dawned, doubt followed. Why would someone like Lúcio want someone like him? Lúcio was warm and powerful where Junkrat was sunbleached and scrawny, looming a foot above him like some sort of spectre. “Why?”

“Why?” Lúcio repeated. “Do I have to have a reason? I think you’re cute.”

“Mate, I’m not… I mean, have you had a good look at me recently?” Junkrat’s shoulders hunched as he diminished a little, the pleasant emotions that had been fluttering in his stomach giving way to a surety that Lúcio had made some sort of mistake or taken a joke too far. “I know who you are. You could get anyone you wanted.”

“Well, duh. That’s why I’m trying to get you,” Lúcio replied, laughing and shaking his head. “Listen, Junkrat, I like you. I like guys like you.” When Junkrat looked dubious, Lúcio sighed and reached up to touch his cheek. “Junkrat, can you just accept that I’m into you? It doesn’t have to make sense for me to go ‘hey, I’d hit that’!”

Junkrat was far from convinced, his mouth tight in a little frown, but the hand on his cheek felt nice and he didn’t want to shove away something he had made such an effort to make possible.

“Yeah alright,” he huffed softly, and was rewarded with a laugh from Lúcio. “Just don’t go actin’ like I didn’t give you a chance to get out while you could.”

Lúcio kissed him again, quick and fleeting. “If I want out, you’ll know about it. I’m more talkative than that other guy you mess around with.” The mention of Roadhog made Junkrat crack a small smile and Lúcio beamed back at him. “Listen, it’s getting dark. We should head back inside, but can I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said with a nod. “I’ll text you.”

“Great!” Lúcio gave him a final kiss, then took his hand again and turned back towards the main building.

They found time together the following day at lunch, Lúcio relaxed and liberal with his affection and Junkrat soaking it in like he’d never had someone smile at him in his life. After they ate, Lúcio and Junkrat walked aimlessly around the base for awhile and Lúcio mentioned that he would be gone on a mission for the next few days, but he’d been in touch on his phone.

“When I get back, we should have a proper date and spend some time in my room after.” The absolute confidence with which he suggested such a thing made Junkrat blush, but he couldn’t help but be a little flattered by the obvious interest. Roadhog had been so sideways about things when they first started. In part, it was because in the wasteland anything you wanted too obviously just became a weakness to exploit, so it wasn’t like Junkrat blamed him. It was just new and different in a way that had him lying up at night to text stupid combinations of emojis to Lúcio until his eyes were too heavy to keep open.

It had been a long time since Junkrat had actually missed someone. Roadhog was a constant, comfortable presence, and other relationships he’d had were generally too fleeting or antagonistic to make much of an impact when he found himself alone, but having to say goodbye to Lúcio so soon after things had gotten established left him antsy. He checked his phone constantly for messages, and the occasional ping had him rushing to reply. Junkrat knew there was some etiquette about appearing too desperate, but he didn’t know the details and he didn’t much care. He wanted Lúcio to come back soon (and safe) and he wanted Lúcio to know it.

Lúcio had a swollen nose and a split lip when Junkrat finally saw him a few hours after he returned to the base, but he was smiling and his eyes were as bright as ever. He brushed it off as a fluke, joking about needing to practice his wall-riding. Junkrat didn’t quite believe him and wanted to hunt down whoever had caused his hurt, but Lúcio was quick to change the subject to dinner plans and Junkrat knew he needed to let it go.

Still, he made a mental note to find out what happened and send some very specific grenades at anyone he found to be involved.

They met for dinner the next evening, finding their way to a lovely little restaurant in the nearest city that Hana recommended. It wasn’t crowded since it was a Wednesday evening, and they ate at a table near the back. Lúcio still got a few glances, but he’d dressed inconspicuously enough that recognition seemed to slip by the few people in the place who might know who he was. Junkrat still felt like there were eyes on them throughout and, despite how good his food was, he was happy to go back to the base for more reasons than just the promise of time alone with Lúcio.

By the time they reached Lúcio’s room, Junkrat was nearly vibrating with nervous energy. He knew where things were going if he went inside, and though he absolutely wanted it, the prospect was a little overwhelming. Roadhog hadn’t been the first, but he’d been Junkrat’s only companion for so long that he wondered if he still knew how to experience someone else.

“Don’t freeze up on me now,” Lúcio said as he keyed in his door code. His words were gentle-- always, always gentle-- and he reached out to take Junkrat’s hand to lead him inside. “There’s no pressure, alright?”

“I want to do it,” Junkrat replied as he let himself be drawn in. The room was identical in layout to his own, though there were a couple of hockey posters on one wall and the utilitarian blanket on the bed had been replaced by a brightly colored quilt that looked handmade. The place felt distinctly more lived in than Junkrat’s own little space. It made Junkrat wonder if Lúcio considered this home.

“That’s good,” Lúcio said, turning and backing towards the bed, his hand still holding Junkrat’s. The door shut behind them with a soft click and Lúcio sat on the edge of the bed, craning up to look at Junkrat with a warm smile.

Breathing out softly, Junkrat reached out to cup Lúcio’s face in his hands. He hesitated for an instant before touching him with the metal one, but Lúcio didn’t flinch. His face was still a little swollen from his injury and Junkrat was careful to keep his touch as tender as he could to avoid poking any of the sore spots.

“I don’t know how you want me to do stuff,” he said, delicate as a hammer. Lúcio lifted his eyebrows.

“You can just do what feels right, J. Find the rhythm and move to it.” Lúcio’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side in Junkrat’s careful hands. “But you like instructions, don’t you?”

The question made Junkrat’s cheeks grow warm. There had been a handful of moments where Lúcio had made some reference to his habits with Roadhog, whether direct or oblique, and they made Junkrat wonder if he was being judged. He could never quite put his finger on it, but Lúcio had seemed more interested in that than he would have anticipated.

“So?” he said, letting his hands drop to Lúcio’s shoulders. “You don’t wanna do that.”

“What?” Lúcio asked, lifting one of his own hands to rest over Junkrat’s. “Who said I didn’t?”

“Well--!” Junkrat’s face grew even hotter. “I mean-- You’re not like Hog at all. He likes it real rough.”

“Yeah, I gathered that. I’m not talking about shoving you around. I can tell you what to do without leaving bruises.” There wasn’t any judgement in Lúcio’s tone, just a casual surety.

Junkrat swallowed. “Why would I just do what you said?”

Lúcio seemed to have been waiting for the question and grinned, tilting his head back. “Because you love it. I knew it for the minute we first talked. You’re the kind of guy who wants someone else to take the lead, and I…” He lifted a hand, gently curling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Junkrat’s neck. “Like that.”

A shiver rippled over Junkrat’s skin as the hand in his hair tightened a little bit. Was this what Lúcio had meant when he said he liked guys like Junkrat? He’d always kind of felt like his habit of letting Roadhog be in control was as much to do with their relative sizes as anything else, something to be indulged but not… desired. But here he was with Lúcio-- smaller, gentler Lúcio-- and all he wanted to do was drop down to his knees and whimper.

“Ok,” Junkrat breathed.

“Ok?”

“Tell me what to do,” Junkrat mumbled. He shifted from foot to foot. “I want you to.”

Lúcio’s smile was wicked, sending heat jolting down to settle low in Junkrat’s pelvis. The hand in his hair grew firm, drawing him down until he bent his legs to kneel in front of Lúcio. 

Fingers going gentle, Lúcio murmured, “Good boy.”

 

If Junkrat had still been standing, he would have gone weak at the knees. It was absurd how a little comment could have him so overwhelmed, but before he could look away, Lúcio was taking off his shirt. His fingers worked the buttons one by one until he could shrug it off behind him and leave his torso bare. There were a few scars on his smooth skin-- a neat surgical incision where he’d had his appendix out and a faint series of marks that Junkrat recognized as having been left by shrapnel. On his ribs was the remains of a fading bruise in the shape of a boot and Junkrat frowned, reaching up to touch with light fingers.

“Was this from your mission?” he asked. Lúcio’s chest expanded as he sighed.

“It’s all good, I promise,” he murmured, catching Junkrat’s hand and drawing it away. “I had people watching my back.”

Junkrat wasn’t satisfied, but Lúcio squeezed his hand, then stood to unbuckle his belt and let his jeans slip down over his hips. Kneeling as he was, Junkrat had a good view of the front of his frog-patterned boxer briefs, and resisted the urge to immediately nuzzle in against them.

Lúcio brushed his hand againstJunkrat’s cheek. “C’mere. Touch me.”

Lifting his hands from his knees, Junkrat slowly slid them up along Lúcio’s thighs, starting just above the knee and ending at his hips. His thumbs brushed over the waistband of his briefs, and then Junkrat hooked them in the elastic, glancing up briefly to get a nod from Lúcio before he drew them down slowly. The trail of hair down from Lúcio’s belly button was neatly trimmed, Junkrat noticed, and as he pulled the briefs down to expose his cock, Junkrat saw that he was much smaller than Roadhog. It wasn’t like it should have been surprising, but after being so used to such a massive size, Junkrat wondered what it would feel like.

Leaning in, Junkrat pressed a kiss to the top of Lúcio’s cock, right at the base, before tugging the briefs down the last quarter of an inch to let him hang free. He wasn’t fully hard, but the skin of his shaft was smooth and warm under Junkrat’s lips as he worked his way down towards the head.

Fingers curled in his hair again, guiding him down, and Junkrat let his mouth fall open obediently as Lúcio angled his hips up to slide between his lips. Almost at once, Junkrat leaned forward to try and take him into his throat, but Lúcio’s fingers tightened and made him stop.

“Easy,” he murmured. “Easy. No rush.”

Junkrat felt a moment of confusion. Didn’t Lúcio want a blowjob? This is how it was done…

“Just use your tongue,” Lúcio said softly. “Get it nice and wet for me.”

Hesitating for a second, Junkrat stuttered into motion an instant later, sliding his tongue up and down Lúcio’s length. It felt somehow more messy and exposed than when he just swallowed Roadhog and let him fuck his mouth. That was something that happened to him, not something he was expected to perform. What if Lúcio didn’t think he was doing a good job? What if he’d never been very good at this and Roadhog just hadn’t told him--

His teeth caught the flared head of Lúcio’s cock as he drew back on the next lick, making Lúcio flinch back with a soft gasp.

“Sorry!” Junkrat said, then he swallowed hard. “Sorry-- I--”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay--” Lúcio said. He must have noticed how red in the cheeks Junkrat was because he reached out to cup his face in his soft hands. “It’s fine. You’re doing great. Take a second, then I want you to get me hard before you take off your clothes. Will you do that for me?”

Junkrat nodded slowly, lips tight for a moment before he relaxed his mouth and returned to his gentle licking and kissing. Lúcio was growing harder under his lips, his cock stiffening out in front of him, and Junkrat tasted salt on the next little sweep of his tongue over his head. Lúcio kept stroking and petting his hair, murmuring encouragement until he finally gave a soft laugh and said, “Look at you. You’re so pretty like this. I’m all hard for you. Why don’t you show me what you look like under those clothes?”

Junkrat sat back on his heel, his position a little lopsided because of his missing leg, and his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He paused, remembering that Lúcio had never seen his chest before.

“It’s not exactly… pretty,” Junkrat said, nervous fingers twitching on the fabric of his shirt.

Lúcio’s eyes were gentle. “You’re pretty. I like you. It doesn’t matter what you’ve got under there, I want to see you.”

So far, Lúcio hadn’t done anything to hurt him, and Junkrat kept that in mind as he peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. His scars felt tight and obvious, but the expression of affection on Lúcio’s face didn’t flicker.

“Can I see the rest of you?” Lúcio asked, gesturing down to Junkrat’s army green shorts. He held out a hand for Junkrat to pull himself back up to his feet, drawing him in for a kiss before releasing him to strip down further. Junkrat could feel his erection bump against his leg when they were close, and the fact that he hadn’t been completely turned off by seeing him was encouraging.

The shorts were easy to wrestle off, and he kicked off his shoe along with them, leaving himself completely naked in front of Lúcio. It was so strange to have eyes on him so plainly with no defenses, and he locked his elbows to keep from covering himself up on automatic.

“Wow,” Lúcio said, the one word packed with warmth. “You’re even better than I thought.”

Junkrat was about to ask him what he meant, but Lúcio stepped forward, kissing the center of his chest and teasing fingers down along his stomach to pause in the sparse hair that led between his legs. Junkrat melted into the touch, bringing his hands up to Lúcio’s shoulders and leaving his body exposed for his gentle, searching fingers. He swallowed a soft sigh as Lúcio’s fingers found his slit and felt along it without pushing between his swollen lips.

“Lúcio…” he mumbled, dropping his head against Lúcio’s shoulder and earning a warm chuckle. “Don’t stop.”

“Alright,” Lúcio said, his fingers curling in to find Junkrat’s clit and frame it, one on either side, so he could gently start to rub. Junkrat’s knees went weak for a second, and he was glad for how solidly Lúcio was holding him. Everything was slick and wet between his legs and he set them a little wider to give Lúcio more access. 

“Eager boy,” Lúcio crooned softly after a moment or two of Junkrat rocking his hips into his hand. “Hang on. I’m gonna put on some music.”

He drew away after a quick kiss to Junkrat’s forehead, leaving him feeling adrift and awkward. He was only gone long enough to turn on a set of speakers that sat on the dresser, bringing a mellow electronic station up, then he came back over to Junkrat again. Before he reached him, Lúcio brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them, making Junkrat blush.

“You taste nice,” Lúcio said, putting his hands on Junkrat’s hips. “Wouldn’t mind more.”

Junkrat shivered, nodding, and Lúcio guided him towards the bed with a strong, warm hand. “How…?” Junkrat asked with a quick gesture towards the comforter.

Lúcio looked thoughtful for a minute, then reached out to grab the quilt that lay atop the bed, dragging it off and dropping it to the side. He leaned to snatch up the pillows, pulling them towards the middle of the bed to make a little hill.

“Lie back over that,” he said. Junkrat clambered up, awkward on his mismatched limbs, and then draped himself over the pillows. They made his hips jut out, leaving his pussy completely exposed as his legs splayed to either side, and for a second he wanted to demand a different position. It felt too raw like this. But… Lúcio was looking at him with such an eager face that he couldn’t get the words out. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Junkrat said, propping his heel on the bed so he at least had a tiny bit of leverage. Lúcio slid up onto the bed too, somehow managing to look a lot more graceful despite his own prosthetics, and he positioned himself between Junkrat’s legs. He let his hands rest on Junkrat’s thighs, thumb rubbing gentle circles on one fading bruise there.

“You really do like it rough, huh?” he murmured, looking mildly impressed. Junkrat squirmed a little in place.

“Yeah,” Junkrat said, catching a handful of the sheets in his hand and twisting. “Is that okay?”

Lúcio patted his hip. “Of course it’s okay. I’m more into pleasure than pain myself, so I dunno if I’ll be leaving you all bruised up, but…”

“No-- No, yeah, Roadie doesn’t want me to come back with marks,” Junkrat said quickly. 

Lúcio laughed. “Possessive bastard, isn’t he?” There was no malice in Lúcio’s words, and he looked at Junkrat with a warm smile as he added, “It’s pretty obvious why, though.”

Junkrat blushed all the way down his chest. “You keep sayin’ that but I don’t know what the fuck you’re getting out of this-- ah--!” He was interrupted by a brush of Lúcio’s calloused thumb over his clit, making the words die in his throat.

“You put yourself down to much,” Lúcio said, the little touch turning into a slow, rhythmic rubbing. “Just trust me when I say I’m definitely enjoying myself.”

Junkrat made a strangled little noise, bucking his hips up slightly on the next stroke. Vulnerable as the position left him, he found he liked it. Lúcio could do anything he wanted to him, and all he wanted was to touch him in a way that was making Junkrat crave more every instant. If he could trust that, wasn’t it possible he could trust that Lúcio really wanted to be here?

“Relax,” Lúcio said, pressing a bit more firmly with his fingers. He leaned down, then, and kissed the spot just above Junkrat’s clit. His mouth moved down and he swept his tongue lightly over it, making Junkrat arch. Unlike Roadhog, he was careful and precise, keeping his motions small and intense. His hands rested on Junkrat’s thighs, holding him open instead of shoving his legs apart, and it was so strange how effective such tiny touches could be. Lúcio’s tongue circled Junkrat’s clit, focusing in and drawing Junkrat’s arousal to new heights without forcing him towards the edge with the intensity that Junkrat was used to.

It felt good, though, and Junkrat realized he was panting and whimpering before long. The music seemed to throb in time with his heartbeat, the heat of it flushing through him. He wanted something to cling to and yanked one of the pillows up so he could hold it against his chest tightly. He felt Lúcio smile against him, then extend a hand up to hold his, their fingers intertwined.

It was unlike any orgasm he’d had. Before Roadhog, they’d always been quick and furtive, barely enjoyed before it was time to move on or fake sleep. With him, Junkrat was forced over the edge more often than not, shoved towards pleasure with little regard for tempo. Lúcio drew it out of him, tenderly licking and kissing and nuzzling until Junkrat’s whole body was thrumming with electric heat. When he finally came, it released from deep in his stomach, shuddering through him like waves. He felt like he might melt back into the bed as the gentle rocking subsided, and Lúcio hadn’t even put a finger in him.

“There you go,” Lúcio murmured, patting Junkrat’s thigh. “Feel nice?”

Junkrat lifted a hand and found that his eyes were wet with tears. It hadn’t been rough, but the intensity of it was undiminished somehow. He wiped his nose, sniffing, and started to sit up only to find his head swimming. Lúcio had a hand on his elbow immediately. “Woah, don’t go too fast.”

“Sorry,” Junkrat said, not sure why he was apologizing but feeling the need to anyway. Lúcio shook his head.

“You did just right.” He leaned in to kiss Junkrat’s cheek. “I’m happy.”

“Yeah…” Junkrat said, putting a hand on Lúcio’s knee. “Me too.”

Lúcio kissed him again, this time on the mouth, and Junkrat leaned right into it without hesitation. When they pulled apart, he slid his hand a little higher on Lúcio’s thigh.

“I want to get you off. I need to… I need to get you off too,” Junkrat said, oddly bashful about how intensely he wanted to return the favor. “You can fuck me if you want or-- whatever you want.”

“How about you use your mouth on me again?” Lúcio asked, grinning. Junkrat felt his lips twitch up in a reflection of the smile as he nodded. “Cool.”

Junkrat came forward to rest his weight on his hands, kissing Lúcio on the lips before lowering himself down to lie on his belly with his head in Lúcio’s lap. Lúcio shifted slightly, bringing his hips close, and Junkrat was able to nuzzle against his cock again, kissing along its length.

Glowing and relaxed as he was, it was easier to go slow instead of trying to drive right towards the point. The music had an easy beat and Junkrat matched the rhythm, his fingers working up and down Lúcio’s length to urge him back to full erection as his lips and tongue slicked the way. Lúcio let out a pleased sigh, spreading his legs wider to give him more room to work.

Junkrat kept his hand around Lúcio’s shaft as he slid his lips over the tip, flicking under his foreskin before slowly working his mouth down. At this angle, he couldn’t have deep-throated him even if he tried, but Lúcio seemed just as happy with the warm, tender attention that Junkrat was giving him. He combed his fingers through Junkrat’s hair, brushing it back from his forehead and meeting Junkrat’s eyes with a smile whenever he glanced up.

“That feels so good,” Lúcio murmured after a few soft minutes. The music blended with his voice, making him sound dreamy and warm, and Junkrat glowed at the praise. “Not gonna take me too long, sweetheart.”

The pet name was perhaps a little cutesy for Junkrat’s taste, but as long as it stayed in the bedroom it sounded right in Lúcio’s mouth. Lúcio’s cock was starting to bead fluid at the tip and Junkrat lapped it up, noticing how different he tasted than what Junkrat was used to. Lúcio’s fingers tightened suddenly and he gave a soft gasp, pulling Junkrat back so he could spill over his hand instead of into his mouth.

Junkrat ducked in anyway, lapping up the come from Lúcio’s tip and the backs of his own fingers. That drew a soft moan from Lúcio’s throat, and he doubled forward to kiss Junkrat slow and sweet as soon as he was finished.

“How do you feel?” Lúcio asked.

Junkrat laughed, the sound harsh after Lúcio’s sonorous voice. “Nice,” he murmured, resting his head against Lúcio’s thigh. “Like I’m gonna float right the fuck away.”

Lúcio chuckled. “Good. You can stay as long as you want. I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

“Can’t stay too long,” Junkrat said, though his voice was dreamy and soft. “Roadhog wants me back.”

“Course he does,” Lúcio said, and as before there was a laugh in his voice but no resentment. “Well, just promise me you’ll be slow about getting ready to go.”

Junkrat laughed and pressed a kiss to Lúcio’s thigh. They chatted for a few minutes about nothing important and then Lúcio went out to take a shower. When he came back, Junkrat was dressed again, and he caught him for a kiss before they said their goodbyes.

“I’ll text you,” Junkrat said and Lúcio nodded.

“Don’t forget.”

“See you tomorrow.”

They parted with another kiss, and Junkrat headed back out the door. Though he was going back to a familiar room, everything seemed more buoyant as he went along. Even the usual ache of his prosthetics was diminished.

He stopped in to see Roadhog before heading to his own room, and he could sense the relief in Hog’s voice as he wished him a goodnight and grunted at him not to snore so much so he wouldn’t hear it through the wall. Junkrat couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he fell into bed, curling up with his blankets and grabbing his phone. He already had a message from Lúcio, and in that moment he felt more warm, safe, and wholly loved than he had in a long, long time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Froggyflan is perfection incarnate and betas like a pro.

Junkrat got his first real assignment in the afternoon a week after his date with Lúcio. The files with his briefing arrived while he was watching a movie with Roadhog, blinking up on the corner of the screen until he finally clicked on it to dismiss the alert. He’d be travelling to some city in Europe he’d never heard the name of, though in the pictures it looked like new construction was sitting alongside ancient.

It wasn't complicated: A simple escort for a couple dignitaries who were, it seemed, trying to lift sanctions on Overwatch's existence. Getting them from point A to point B wouldn't be hard and from what Junkrat could gather he would be on the backup team, only called in if things went to hell. That made sense, even if it rankled. No sense lobbing grenades unless there was a good reason for explosions.

Under other circumstances, Junkrat might have argued that there was always a good reason for explosions, but he was just happy to finally have something on his schedule. Both Roadhog and Lúcio had gone off in the past week, leaving him impatient and ready for his own turn.

He didn't know any of the others that boarded the transport with him, but they all seemed to be in good spirits. Junkrat's leg bounced rhythmically as they set off, making his grenades tap together in a way that had the rest of the passengers giving him wary looks. As if he would build something that couldn't stand up to a little friction!

The lead team was headed up by a photogenic young woman with her hair braided tight to her scalp in little rows. Junkrat gathered that her name was Thorne by listening to others ask her questions. Junkrat just let himself be ignored during the hour-long ride, but he took in as much as he could, trying to get some sense of the others. 

Half the team disembarked as they reached their destination, leaving a group behind that, as a whole, was decidedly less good looking than those who had been chosen to be seen first. One woman had a strange chitin armor coming down from her elbows to wrists in vicious looking spikes, and near her was someone swathed in a grey cloak that seemed to flutter and move of its own volition. The other two were men who clearly knew each other, chatting softly in a language Junkrat didn't recognize. They looked normal enough. 

The minutes ticked by with the occasional update from the radio. So far, everything was going according to plan and Junkrat slumped, convinced that he wouldn't see any action, and sure that was the goal, but he didn't have to be happy about it. 

The explosion from outside was forceful enough to rock the transport and Junkrat was thrown out of his seat, his peg leg skittering across the textured metal floor loudly. He caught himself on a strap hanging from the ceiling as the transport leveled out again, turning towards the door. 

"Showtime, boys and girls!" Junkrat said, then glanced towards the figure in grey who was getting to their feet shakily. "And, uh. Cloak guy."

He swung down out of the open hatch, orienting himself towards the source of the explosion easily. A plume of smoke rose from between the two and three story buildings, several blocks down the route that had been displayed on their map. Junkrat fell into a lope, hurrying towards it with his grenade launcher at the ready. 

Shouts and screams told him which turns to take and within a few minutes he burst out onto the route. There was a car flipped in the middle of the road, smoking from its underbelly where it had clearly taken the brunt of a bomb. The asphalt was cracked and cratered, but the impact hadn't been enough to tear through the reinforced steel. 

"Amateurs," Junkrat mumbled to himself, scanning the scene. He saw Thorne leaning in through the window of the car, dragging at someone's arm to help free them, and two of her people were at her back. She was fine, then, and Junkrat started to turn towards Roadhog to suggest they head off down the side streets to look for suspicious folks before he realized sharply that Roadhog wasn't there. 

It was strange to smell burning and explosive chemicals without the massive man at his back, and for a second Junkrat faltered. The woman with the spikes on her arms appeared around the corner just then, her eyes red and slitted as she glanced across the wreckage. 

"We need to split up," she said. "Go north, I'll head east. Dinh and Quang are circling west and south." Without waiting for a reply, she broke into a trot, heading off across the road. 

"Wait!" Junkrat called, spreading his hands wide to either side of himself. "Which way's north?"

She thrust a finger out, pointing, and Junkrat headed off that way with a grumble. They should have let him check the route, he thought with venom. He could have sniffed out such a crude bomb in moments!

It was easy to tell that the people he passed were bystanders. Most of them were too young or too old to be worth attention, dressed in casual clothes and quickly darting when he appeared. A sharp movement caught his eye and Junkrat spun to see a black-clad figure scaling a wall down the alley to his right. They moved effortlessly, as if climbing a ladder, and disappeared onto the roof. 

"Shit," Junkrat growle, reaching to his hip for his concussion mine as he broke into a lopsided run. The rhythm of the toss, leap, trigger was burned into his muscle memory, and within an instant he was launched up by the force of the mine, landing hard on the roof. He collapsed, knees slamming into the concrete with enough force that he yelped.

His sudden presence was enough to startle his target. They were wearing a hood and goggles, completely obscured from head to toe. The hesitation was long enough for Junkrat to get up again, swinging his launcher up and aiming. 

"Bye bye!" he called as he fired. His target dove to the side, but the grenade bounced, ricocheting off the wall and rolling after them. It took a heartbeat, then the sound of a bang that had Junkrat's ears ringing and his grin stretching from across his face.

The figure screamed, clutching at their leg studded with shrapnel. Junkrat knew enough to guess that they wouldn't lose the leg, but they certainly wouldn't be climbing anywhere soon. He advanced, aiming the launcher towards their chest.

"Next one blows your head off, mate!" Junkrat sang, glee coloring his words. That would be fun-- and he could easily say it was self defense. No one else was around to see. Even Roadhog wouldn’t know, wouldn’t tell him to leave it.

Something heavy collided with the back of Junkrat's head and he was flung up and sideways. None of his limbs worked, and he felt his grenade launcher go flying from his hands, spinning off across the roof. White crept into the edges of his awareness and he had to struggle to draw in a breath through the pounding agony in his skull.

"Took you long enough!" yelled the injured person. As Junkrat fought to stay conscious, he saw boots step into his field of view, heavy and metal capped. If they'd been bigger, they could have been Roadhog's. 

"I was high up," said a male voice. Junkrat told his head to turn so he could see them, but his muscles ignored him completely. The man squatted, bringing himself into Junkrat's view as he peered at him. Most of his face was covered by a mask, leaving his eyes and curly brown hair exposed. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail, puffed out behind him. Below each arm, panels were attachd, hanging down in loose folds. If he stretched his arms out, they would pull tight like wings. A glide suit, Junkrat realized. He must have dived in and kicked him in the back of the head. 

"Bet you wish one of your healers was around," he said, digging around in a chest pocket before pulling out a small metal disk. He flexed it in his hands, making a loud crack, and a pale white smoke started pouring from perforations in the top. "You'll want them even more, soon. Did that musician survive? Oh-- maybe save your breath. You'll need it."

He tossed it near enough to Junkrat that the smoke would flood his face within a few seconds. Rage clawed at his stomach, but he was still too stunned to do much more than twitch. 

The man in the glide suit stood back up and heading over to help up his partner. Junkrat watched them hobble towards the edge of the roof before the smoke began burning his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut. 

Poison. That explained why the man's mouth and nose had been covered. Junkrat tried not to breathe, struggling to get an arm up so he could cover his face or push himself away. The hissing of the little device tapered off, but he couldn't do much to dissipate the smoke that was already burning him.

The need to breathe was growing more desperate every moment and Junkrat felt like his awareness was fading ever faster as he tried to fight back the swimming pain in his head. Someone had to find him. How long before they came looking for him?

Unable to hold it anymore, Junkrat sucked in a breath, then immediately started hacking. It felt like sandpaper down his throat and through his sinuses and the shock was enough to get his body to twist away involuntarily. Pain jolted through his skull, but he managed to turn towards the edge of the cloud, crawling just enough that his next breath had a good amount of clean air. Even so, weakness spread in from his fingertips. His metal hand twitched, clenching as his nerves stopped sending signals properly. 

Everything went white, and Junkrat's final thought before nothingness was that he should have known better than to go out without Roadhog around to drag him to safety.

* * *

His senses returned slowly and it took time for Junkrat to figure out where he was. The confusion was gentle, though, and as memories trickled back and comprehension grew, he came to recognize one of the private infirmary rooms he'd seen others confined to back at the watchpoint. 

His body ached and everything seemed stuffy, but he realized after a few hours of drifting in and out that there were bandages around his head, making everything sound thick and muffled. 

Dr. Ziegler came, checked his vitals, and left and he wasn't sure of much until she appeared again the following day and seemed to notice he was stirring. Everything was distant and disjointed between bouts of sleep that he couldn’t resist. Even when he doctor got his attention and spoke, her words made little sense. He got the idea that he'd been out for awhile and she was pleased to see him awake, but any details she offered were lost as soon as they arrived.

He slept again. This time when he woke, there was someone in the chair next to his bed. It took him a second to recognize Lúcio sleeping with his head tilted back and his arms crossed over his chest. 

Junkrat didn't know he'd said his name until Lúcio jerked awake and sat up, blinking sleep from his eyes and leaning forward. 

"Hey," he said. "Hey, how's it going?"

Unlike when Dr. Ziegler had talked to him, the words all fell into order, and even if his head was pounding with the effort of keeping his eyes open, Junkrat didn't want to look away. 

"You're here," he said, noticing how raw and nasty his voice sounded. His throat burned when he swallowed and he gagged. Lúcio's hand came up to touch his cheek. 

"Of course I'm here. Roadhog and I have been taking shifts. He's getting some sleep but he'll be back in a few hours to see you." Lúcio lifted one of Junkrat's hands to his mouth, kissing it gently. "It was pretty touch and go for awhile there."

"Sorry," Junkrat said, turning his hand to touch the corner of Lúcio's mouth gently. "Didn't mean to."

Lúcio laughed, relief flooding his face. "You're alright. You're safe."

Roadhog appeared a few hours later, as Lúcio had promised, and nearly dragged Junkrat out of bed with the force of his embrace. Lúcio gave them privacy as Roadhog swore he'd never let Junkrat go out without him again and Junkrat dozed curled in Roadhog's thick arms, unwilling to be apart from him even when exhaustion made it impossible to stay awake.

Dr. Ziegler explained that her nanites had repaired the crack in his skull without major surgery, but the concussion and poison had left his body weak enough that he would need time to recover naturally. If he'd been found sooner, she could have done more, but she just seemed grateful that he hadn't been found any later.

Whether there was brain damage or not remained to be seen. Junkrat did passably well on the test Dr. Ziegler administered, but considering how poor his memory and reading skills had been before the incident, that could only mean so much. He'd be off active rotation for at least a month, a fact that bothered him to no end, but Lúcio and Roadhog made it very clear they planned to enforce her orders to the letter. 

After a week, he was allowed to go back to his own room, only to find that Roadhog was completely determined to sleep next to him whenever he was able. The concern was more touching than Junkrat wanted to admit and he snuggled in close to Roadhog's chest that night, not even minding the humidity as long as he had a big arm holding him tight. 

The strangest thing was how comfortable Roadhog and Lúcio suddenly were around each other. Junkrat gathered that in the days he'd been in the infirmary, they'd had little to do except sit in the waiting room and talk, and they'd struck up an unlikely accord. When Roadhog went to work out or practice with his hook, he handed Junkrat's care off to Lúcio without hesitation or suspicion. What Lúcio had done to gain the big guy's trust was a mystery, but Junkrat was relieved to see the two of them so harmonious, even if their comfort with each other meant it was two against one in every argument.

It was stranger still to accept that Lúcio wasn't about to walk away at any moment. The inconvenience of having to help Junkrat keep track of his pills or ride out a migraine couldn't be understated, but even with Junkrat too unwell to reciprocate with sex or other favors, Lúcio seemed completely willing. It made Junkrat feel like he was taking advantage of him in some way, but Lúcio just told him he was more than worth the investment.

Still, the fear crept in whenever Lúcio had to go away. It wasn't reasonable to expect him to devote every instant to Junkrat, not after he'd already given so much already, but it was as though the moment he left the surety Junkrat felt in his affection evaporated. The gnawing worry had him checking his phone for messages even when he knew Lúcio was busy, sure that he'd never speak to him again, that the burden had finally become too great. Even Roadhog's reassurances fell flat, and eventually he just gave up trying to reason with Junkrat and just let him babble on until his anxiety waned enough for distraction to help. 

When Junkrat finally felt good enough to want sex again, it was Lúcio he sought out first. Maybe he fearedLúcio would grow impatient with the waiting, but he definitely needed something gentle, and he knew Roadhog could only be so careful. 

Lúcio was lounging in his room with the door cracked open when Junkrat arrived. With nothing much to do, he'd taken to visiting Lúcio fairly often even after the round-the-clock vigils were no longer needed. Insecurity fueled it, certainly, but Lúcio also had a ton of movies to watch and music to listen to.

A friendly smile spread across Lúcio's face as Junkrat came in and shut the door behind him. 

"Hey," Lúcio said, sitting up a little. He set down the magazine he'd been reading and Junkrat noticed that Lúcio's own face was on the cover. That made him smirk. 

"Getting that ego fueled, huh?" he asked, pointing to the magazine. Lúcio chuckled, flipping it over to hide the smiling photo. 

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm endlessly fascinating to the public," he said, striking a dramatic pose before relaxing. He gestured for Junkrat to sit on the bed. When he’d settled, Lucio leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Everything okay? I thought you were with Roadhog."

"He fell asleep," Junkrat said, which was true. He'd left a scrawled note in case Roadie wondered where he'd gotten off to, but he didn't expect it to be an issue. "I wanted attention."

"You always want attention," Lúcio teased. From anyone else it would have stung, but Lúcio's smile was too kind.

Junkrat ducked his head in a nod. "True."

Lúcio laughed, reaching up to cup Junkrat's face in his hands. "Lucky for you, I've got attention to spare."

"I'm feeling a lot better," Junkrat said, bringing his flesh hand to rest on Lúcio's thigh. "I was wondering if you'd be interested in,” he paused, and it’s quiet. “You know."

Lúcio's eyes lit up at the sideways suggestion and he gave a little nod. "If you're feeling up to it, lindo."

"Gotta go slow, but it's been fuckin' ages!" Junkrat huffed softly. "Can't exactly jerk one out with people watchin'!"

"It was only me and Roadhog!" Lúcio chuckled. "We probably would have been happy to watch."

That made Junkrat flush and breathe out hard through his nose. "Pervert. Voyeur."

"Oh, you like the idea, hmm?" Lúcio leaned in close, kissing at Junkrat's jaw and then down his neck. The warmth of his mouth made Junkrat tilt his head back immediately. "I'll have to keep that in mind. Maybe I should get you to put on a show sometime."

Junkrat's hips jerked of their own volition as Lúcio nipped lightly at his skin, lips working a spot just short of leaving a hickey. When he released him, Junkrat remembered how to draw in a shaky breath. Lúcio continued to kiss and lick and suck, drawing pleased moans from Junkrat's mouth and finally slipping his hands up under his shirt, fingers splaying over his stomach. 

"I missed you," Lúcio said, making Junkrat snort in disbelief. Lúcio drew back, frowning. "Do you not believe me?"

"I just-- I still don't get why you're runnin' around after a mess like me," Junkrat said. He brought his hands up to Lúcio's arms, holding them against his skin. "Don't you want someone less-"

"What?"

"Less like me." Junkrat couldn’t meet Lúcio’s eyes as he said it, but he could see that he was frowning anyway. There was quiet for a moment, then Lúcio pulled his hands away and catch Junkrat's. 

"Would you ask Roadhog that?" he asked. 

Junkrat frowned. "No, but-"

"But what? Have I been less devoted? Have I done something wrong?" There was a genuine note of hurt in Lúcio's voice that made Junkrat want to fling himself into his arms and beg for forgiveness. 

"It's not that!" he said, curling in on himself a little. "You could pick anyone! And I got beat to shit a week after we did it for the first time and needed all this help! Why would you want to put so much effort into someone like me?"

"Why do you keep saying that?" Lúcio asked. "Someone like you-- what does that mean? I know what you did before this. Besides, you'd be there for me if I was hurt. Why wouldn't I be there for you?" He tilted his head slightly to the side. “Is there something I don’t know?”

"A lot of shit happened in Australia, mate--" Junkrat started. 

"And a lot of shit happened in Rio! If you want to bare your soul, do it, but don't just act like you're unworthy because you've got scars.”

Junkrat leaned in, resting his forehead against Lúcio's shoulder. "You could get someone who isn't fucked up like I am."

"So? Just cause I could doesn't mean I'm gonna. I promise you-- hey," Lúcio put a hand under Junkrat's chin, lifting it to face him. "I promise you. All the fucked up stuff-- it's you. And I care about you. You aren’t as fucked up as you think you are. Listen, I want you in my bed for as long as it makes us both happy. Does it make you happy?"

Junkrat nodded, turning to hide his face in the soft curve of Lúcio's palm.

Lucio smiled, then said, "It makes me happy too. Trust me?"

"I'll try."

"If I gotta tell you again, that's okay. You just tell me-- 'Hey, Lúcio! Your dashing good looks are making me insecure! Tell me you love me!'"

Junkrat went very still, like he’d heard the crunch of a footstep in a supposedly empty desert. "You love me?"

"I stayed up all night next to your hospital bed! I'd think it would be obvious!" Lúcio laughed, shaking his head.

Junkrat had heard it from Roadhog more than a few times, but his cheeks flamed at the words. Love was more than just fooling around for fun.

"Sappy," Junkrat said, bringing his hand up to touch Lúcio's where it was still cupping his cheek. "Me too, though."

"Good," Lúcio said, smiling. "I'm glad."

His kiss was tender and light and Junkrat was the one to deepen it. He parted his lips slightly, tugging Lúcio closer by his shirt, and Lúcio nuzzled in, trailing kisses from the corner of Junkrat's mouth to his throat. Junkrat dropped his head back to give him access and Lúcio pressed his lips against the sensitive skin. 

Lúcio's hands slipped under Junkrat's shirt again, pushing it up to his shoulders so he could kiss over his chest. The sensation there was spotty, but Junkrat enjoyed the affection nonetheless, brushing his fingers over Lúcio's hair and down to the back of his neck.

Sitting up straight again, Lúcio wrestled Junkrat's shirt off over his head, throwing it to the side. He repeated the motion with his own shirt and Junkrat's eyes flicked to where that bruise had been the last time he'd seen him. It had disappeared, but Junkrat wondered darkly if his attacker had been the one to leave it. Those boots would be about the right size. 

Another kiss distracted him and he reached out with his flesh hand, touching Lúcio's collarbone gently. A thumb brushed over his nipple made Lúcio breathe out a pleased sigh and thrust his chest forward. 

"Good?" Junkrat asked and at a nod he leaned in to sweep his tongue across the spot lightly. Lúcio's hand came to rest at the nape of his neck, finger rubbing in circles. Junkrat mimicked the motion with his tongue, making Lúcio exhale sharply. 

Lúcio pulled away after a few minutes of attention, lifting himself up just enough to yank his jeans off. He was wearing his simple, more comfortable prosthetics and folded one leg under him, dropping a hand to rub the front of his underwear. Junkrat squirmed in place before dragging off his shorts. He hadn't bothered to put on boxers, a fact Lúcio noticed with a smile. 

"Want to ride me?" Lúcio asked, reaching to slide his hand up Junkrat's thigh and brush his thumb over his mound. Junkrat caught his lip in his teeth for a second, but nodded. Roadhog was basically too big to ride. Straddling him left Junkrat too splayed to get any leverage, and the prospect of doing it with someone with reasonable proportions was appealing to say the least. 

Lúcio shifted back on the bed, still groping and rubbing himself firmly. Junkrat walked forward on his knees until he could get himself positioned above Lúcio's thighs. He hesitated before moving a hand between his own leg.

Having Lúcio's eyes fixed on him made him flush at the intensity of his attention. With Roadhog, he would have had to ask permission to get his hand on his clit, but he'd been right in guessing that Lúcio would enjoy the show. As he rubbed, wetness gathered at his lips and he started to rock his hips in a slow rhythm. 

Lúcio's hand slid down under the waistband of his boxers, drawing out his cock and giving it a few more strokes outside the fabric. Junkrat watched him with just as much interest, noticing that he handled himself a bit more roughly than Junkrat had the last time he'd touched him. Maybe he liked the firmer attention after all. Lúcio's thumb worked his foreskin over the head of his cock as Junkrat rubbed at his clit more directly, whimpering. He would have snapped his legs together at the brightness of the sensation, but Lúcio's thighs kept him spread. 

"God, you're gorgeous," Lúcio said in a husky voice. He added something in Portuguese, and though Junkrat knew nothing of the language he liked how it sounded coming from Lúcio. 

"What?" Junkrat asked, noticing the breathiness in his own words. 

"It means I can't wait to be inside you. You should learn it so I can whisper it to you when we're in public," Lúcio said, laughing as Junkrat groaned at the thought. Junkrat doubled forward to kiss him again, though they both parted after a moment, smiling too much to make kissing possible. 

"I'm ready," Junkrat said. Lúcio's hands were warm and inviting on his hips and he reached down to Lúcio's length, guiding him in between his legs. 

"Wait," Lúcio said quickly, his fingers going tight. "I can get a condom--"

Junkrat laughed. "Mate, I've been showered in radiation since I was a tyke. Ain't nothing cooking in this oven."

"Oh," Lúcio said, then shrugged. "Hey, at least I don't have to get up."

Junkrat grinned, giving his cock a little squeeze. "You'd better not go anywhere."

Lowering himself down slowly, Junkrat felt the blunt press of Lúcio's cock against his hole and breathed out hard as it slid just inside him. There was no burn from the stretch like he was used to, just a thoroughly pleasant pressure that made him crave more immediately. He all but dropped down until their bodies met, drawing a gasp from Lúcio as he was sheathed completely. 

"Fuck--" Lúcio groaned, rocking up slightly. Even the tiny movement made Junkrat sigh happily and he ground himself against Lúcio's pelvis for a moment before lifting himself up and sliding back down. With Roadhog, there was almost no room for proper thrusting, but Lúcio slid in and out easily, filling him up without any trouble. 

Thinking of Roadhog made Junkrat a little wetter and he clenched around Lúcio as he lifted himself up again, thighs straining for an instant before he let himself slip back down. Lúcio didn't have any music playing for once, but Junkrat found his own rhythm, drawing sweet moans from the man beneath him as he rocked and rode him.

It felt so nice to give Lúcio pleasure that Junkrat was all but ignoring his own building need. Something deep and primal just wanted to please him as much as he could, to use his body to make Lúcio happy. It wasn't as though Junkrat didn't crave his own pleasure, he found just as much satisfaction from Lúcio's gasps as his own. Still, the itch of his own climax started to demand attention, and his thighs were starting to grow a little tired of the constant strain. Junkrat let himself rest for a second, their bodies coupled. 

"Touch me?" he said, squirming. 

Lúcio's hands slid up Junkrat's inner thighs, tracing tingles along his skin, then he spread his folds open with his thumbs, revealing his swollen clit. Even the air felt tantalizing against it and Junkrat rocked his hips. 

"Don't tease, c'mon-- c'mon, please," he whined, arching his back and bracing his hands on Lúcio's thighs.

Lúcio rubbed his thumbs up and then down, stroking the area on either side of the spot Junkrat was craving. "How close are you?"

"So fucking close. Please, God, fuck," Junkrat clenched tight around Lúcio's length and was rewarded with a little gasp. He hadn't gotten off in ages and it left him with much less stamina than usual. "Lúcio, please."

"You sound so pretty like this," Lúcio murmured, his own voice breathless but his hands in control as he teased Junkrat's clit again. "I could just play with you forever. Bet I could really get you moaning for me."

With a moan, Junkrat thrust his hips forward, the pressure good but not quite the right spot to push him properly toward the edge. His whole body felt heavy, Lúcio's rough fingers cool against his heated skin. "I would- fuck, I'd moan so good for you, I'd be your good boy."

Lúcio made a pleased noise in his throat, swiping across Junkrat's clit and making him hiss at the sudden direct contact. "Keep going, lindo. I love how desperate you sound."

Junkrat whined, embarrassed at how easily the words came as he went on. "I'd- I'd be so good. You could do anything you want, fuck. Tie me up, make me come, make me wait," His eyes stung and his words sped up, coming out in a jumble. "Please just let me come, I wanna come, I need it. I'll be so good, you can do anything to me, I'll be so good."

"That's my good boy," Lúcio purred, and his next rub came right above Junkrat's clit, putting just enough pressure on that he could rock back against it, the double pleasure of his cock inside him making everything even more intense. "Gonna come on my cock?"

"Yes, fuck!" Junkrat felt it building, simmering up towards a boil more quickly than he could control. He moaned as Lúcio timed his rubbing with a slow thrust, and then every part of him seemed to seize up as his climax rolled through him. The cock still inside him made the clenching spasms all the more obvious and when he finally moaned and collapsed forward, warm arms encircled him at once. 

"Good boy," Lúcio murmured and in his glowing, winded state Junkrat could only grin like a fool and nuzzle in closer. "Good boy, Jamie."

The use of his actual name made Junkrat lift his head, unsure. He wasn't sure if Lúcio had picked it up from the doctor or from Roadhog, but he wasn't sure if he liked it. It had always been something that carried too many bad memories. Lúcio seemed to sense his hesitation. 

"No?" he asked. 

Junkrat ducked his head slightly. "I don't like it."

"Sorry." Lúcio pressed a kiss to Junkrat's temple, urging him to settle back against his shoulder. "I won't say it again."

"Thanks," Junkrat mumbled. "You can still call me 'lindo'."

Lúcio's laugh rumbled through his chest. "Lindo, then. Good boy, lindo. I love you, lindo. You make me happy when you're with me, lindo."

Junkrat felt the grin return to his face and rocked his hips gently, ending the stream of affection with a low groan from Lúcio. Wet and sensitive as he was, it felt tender to keep working himself up and down Lúcio's length, but Lúcio was panting under him, stroking his hair and back, and Junkrat wanted to feel him come more than anything. 

It only took a few more minutes of concentration, then Lúcio's nails bit into Junkrat's shoulder and he whined, arching up as he spilled. Satisfaction flushed through Junkrat's chest. He'd made it happen: he'd gotten Lúcio off with his own body, and now the man he cared for so deeply was giving him a hazy smile and touching his cheek. 

"You feel so nice," Lúcio murmured. "Perfect."

Junkrat glowed at the praise, then slowly eased himself off of Lúcio. Wet smeared down his thigh, but it was nothing like the volume he was used to. He clenched his thighs as he rolled to Lúcio's side, enjoying the slick feeling. He liked being a mess. 

"Can I stay for awhile?" Junkrat asked, knowing the answer even before Lúcio nodded eagerly. 

"As long as I can keep you," he murmured warmly, looping an arm around Junkrat's bony shoulders. 

They dozed and cuddled for an hour or so before heading off to the showers together. Junkrat needed to be cleaned up more than Lúcio, and Lúcio took a special pleasure in getting Junkrat to brace himself up against the wall and tease the spray from the showerhead over his pussy until he was bucking and squirming again. This time, though, he kissed Junkrat soundly on the mouth and told him he'd have to wait until next time for the conclusion of that particular activity. Junkrat griped bitterly, but there was something erotic about being forced to pull his clothes back on with a heat still pulsing between his legs. 

Their kisses goodbye lingered, but eventually Lúcio tore himself away, shooing Junkrat off down the hall with mock sternness. 

The door to Roadhog's room was open when Junkrat got back and he stuck his head inside, giving the big man a wave. Roadhog had headphones in his ears, but popped them out when he saw Junkrat. 

"You left," he said, frowning.

Junkrat's smile faltered. "I wrote a note."

"I thought you'd stay," Roadhog said. He wasn't exactly plaintive, but the tone in his voice was about as close as he could get. Junkrat slid inside, closing the door behind him. 

"Sorry, mate. Didn't know it mattered to ya." Junkrat came over to the bed. Standing, he was still a little shorter than Roadhog seated. 

"It matters," Roadhog said, then looked Junkrat up and down. "Had fun?"

Junkrat felt like it might be a trick question. "You said you didn't want to know any of that stuff."

Roadhog snorted softly, shrugging. "It doesn't matter now." He grabbed for the headphones he'd dropped, but Junkrat put a hand on his. 

"Listen, big fella, touchy feely shit ain't normal but it fuckin' helps sometimes. Talk."

Roadhog looked at him with apprehension written between his eyebrows in a wrinkle only Junkrat could read. 

"Thought you'd pick me first, that's all," Roadhog finally said, looking away. "Shoulda known better."

"Hey, fuck off. It ain't like that!" Junkrat propped a knee on the bed, climbing up next to Roadhog and hanging on his arm. "I'm not healed up enough yet for ya, Roadie. That's all."

Roadhog grunted, shrugging. 

"Don't compare yourself to him," Junkrat said, climbing up into Roadhog's lap. It took a second to get himself situated and he leaned against Roadhog's thick belly. "I love you. It don't get any less true if I love him too. They're two separate things, alright? Not even pullin' from the same deck. More for him ain't less for you."

"Only so many hours in your day," Roadhog pointed out.

Junkrat rolled his eyes, reaching up to brush his fingers over Roadhog's stubbly cheek. "You're jealous."

"No."

"Then what's got you in a twist, Roadie? If it ain't that."

Roadhog caught Junkrat's wrist, pulling it away from his face, but didn't let him go. Junkrat turned his hand so they were holding on to each other.

"He's,” Roadhog started, and he seemed reluctant to finish the thought, “very handsome. We talked while you were sick. I can see why you like him."

Junkrat pursed his lips. "So?"

Roadhog breathed out a heavy sigh. "Nevermind."

There was a note to his voice that made Junkrat frown. It wasn't just that he was jealous of Junkrat being with Lúcio, it was something else.

"Come on, it's talk time. Tell me what's up," he wheedled, squeezing Roadhog's hand. 

"I just see what you see in him. That's all." Roadhog refused to meet Junkrat's eyes. That in itself wasn't uncommon, but the faint tint to his cheeks was far from usual. 

"Roadhog!" Junkrat said, sitting up quickly. "Are you gettin' sweet on him?"

Roadhog's silence made it obvious, and for a second Junkrat teetered between incandescent jealousy and glee. An instant later, glee won. 

"Oh, that's so fuckin' cute! You like him!" Junkrat crowed, squirming around in Roadhog's lap to face him fully. "Does he know?"

"No."

"I'm gonna tell him-"

"No!" Roadhog reached to grab Junkrat by the front of the shirt. "Don't you dare."

Junkrat giggled, shaking his head. "Mate! He'd get such a kick out of it, he'd-" He stopped short, noticing that Roadhog wasn't laughing. "Roadie?"

"Drop it," Roadhog said. "Just- drop it."

He released Junkrat's shirt, letting him slide back down to sit in his lap and Junkrat frowned. 

"I won't say nothin', Roadie, but does this change stuff?"

"Doesn't change anything for you. It's my problem." Roadhog shifted in place, huffing. 

"Ain't a problem, mate," Junkrat said quietly, "You could talk to him."

Roadhog grunted, then shrugged. "I won't. It don't matter."

Junkrat was about to argue when Roadhog's hand clapped on the back of his neck and drew him up for a kiss. Junkrat put his arms around Roadhog's shoulders, hanging off him. 

"You're plenty for me to handle," Roadhog said. "Forget I said anything."

Junkrat frowned but didn't contradict him, settling in draped against Roadhog's front. Even so, his brain was working furiously, wondering what exactly he could do with the new information. He wouldn’t tell Lúcio, not until he had permission, but the prospect of keeping it all to himself was unbearable. He wondered what Lúcio thought of Roadhog. They’d never talked about it directly, but Lúcio had never seemed to dislike the other Junker.

Resting his cheek against Roadhog’s, Junkrat let out a little sigh. Maybe pursuing the idea was just inviting complications that they didn’t need. After all, they were happy enough now, weren’t they? So long as he kept them both happy, things would be fine.


End file.
